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by Daniel Jasper
Summary: 'He sits down cautiously, observing every minute movement he makes, desperately trying to maintain the deathly silence that has filled the air, threatening to choke everyone in its wake.' L Lawliet, a sixteen-year-old anorexic boy, has finally had enough and does something unspeakable. [AU] [one-shot]


**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the Death Note characters, or plot lines.

**A/N: **[AU] [High school setting] L Lawliet, a sixteen year old anorexic boy, has finally had enough and does something unspeakable. Portrayal of characters is subject to opinion.

**Warnings: **Out of character L. Desperate self-mutilation.

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L walked into the crowded cafeteria, his black mop of messy hair cast downwards in a futile attempt to not have any of the other students notice his scrawny presence. Unfortunately the guided action proved quite useless –inept even- as everyone's mindless conversations cut off. The whole of the student body stares at the outcast boy as he walks by. For a brief moment, perhaps only a split second of time itself, L contemplates turning around, but quickly thinks better of it. He was already half way across the newly polished white-tiled floor, and couldn't afford to draw any more suspicion to himself today.

_No._

_Not today._

_Not after-_

He sits down cautiously, observing every minute movement he makes, desperately trying to maintain the deathly silence that has filled the air, threatening to choke everyone in its wake. His jet-black hair plasters itself to his face in beads of sweat, blocking everyone's stares from his penetrative gaze.

Some unknown, far off voice echoes a horrible, gut-wrenching screaming alerting L, hurriedly lifting his head in effort to see who had made the awful sound. He barely catches a swift wisp of white-lily material, gossamer maybe, which could only belong to Amane –_Misa Amane_.

Many more people begin to lose themselves in the stillness, heated shouts can be made out from across the dining hall, and with a stabbing pain Lawliet realizes they're directed at his own person. L looks down at his hands, calloused palms and delicate, skinny fingers are covered in sticky, crimson blood. The frantic boy tries to rub it off his dark-thread trousers, but in doing so smears it across the empty table, knocking a glass tumbler to the floor –spilling colorful glass and icy water everywhere.

Somebody grabs L from behind, and he's dragged off by a nameless pair of hands. They boy is limp, weakened by his malnourished frame and therefore does not bother to see who the claws that are crushing into his side belong to. Why should he?

Someone's blood has stained _his_ pale skin.

Someone's blood is on _his_ hands…

Said person shoves Lawliet into a –surprisingly- empty classroom, and locks the wooden door behind him. There's ireful mumbling taking place just on the other side, but the highly intelligent boy makes an effort to tune it out, falling to the floor –his arms dropping to his sides in defeated surrender.

Anticipation starts a frenzy; L begins to desperately scratch at his frail arms, making them weep scarlet tears as he frantically –_in his mind_- tries to make himself clean. The disturbed boy tries in vain to rub off what he has done. Feeling sturdy emotions rise into his chest, threatening to break through, Lawliet opens his small, rosy mouth to release a miserable, strangled scream.

The door is hastily unlocked again, a man by the name of Matsuda, L's most hated Advanced Calculus teacher, walks in, ready to take the boy away. He aims a few well-placed kicks to the Matsuda's shins, and bites into the looming man's hands. It gets to the point where a few older boys are called in to subdue Lawliet.

L is placed into a student desk, restrained by a length of course rope. The boy feels faint and light-headed, a black eye evidence of where he had been beaten around the head. It's clear that the present body of people don't care for any concern, as they still press on, asking the shivering teen about the blood streaking down his front.


End file.
